Regrets Only

by Erin Duffy

  “Thank you so much,” I said. “I’m Claire. I think you have my datebook?”

  “Yes. Here you go. I found it on the floor when I was packing up my stuff.” She reached under the counter and handed me my leather day planner.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice I dropped this.”

  “I can’t believe you still use a datebook. I don’t know anyone who still has one of those.”

  “I’m old-fashioned, I guess. It was really nice of you to track me down.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’m not sure I caught your name on my voicemail. Is it Lissy?” I asked.

  “Melissa. I go by Lissy.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Lissy. That’s Bo in the stroller.”

  “’Sup, little man?” she said, as she turned around and tickled his belly. He laughed.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Lissy said. “You look surprised that I’m the one who called you. You were expecting a mom in a sweater set, right?”

  “Do I look surprised?” I asked, embarrassed that my expression was so obvious. “I’m sorry. This has been kind of a rough day for me so far. I didn’t mean to come across that way.”

  “It’s okay. I know the Goth thing throws a lot of people, especially in these parts. Most people look at me like they don’t really know what to make of me when they meet me.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true!” I said, even though I’d bet that it was.

  “It’s okay. It comes with the territory, right? But I like my individuality. I don’t want to wear cable sweaters etched with ponies or skirts covered in pink-and-green monkeys. Never have. Anyone who has a problem with that can just leave me alone. Know what I mean?”

  “I actually do, yeah,” I said. I understood Lissy better than I’d understood most people I’d met in this state so far. Check that—I understood Lissy better than anyone I’d met in this state, no question, and I’d only known her for two minutes. “How’d you end up at the library?”

  “I really like reading to kids. They don’t judge. They’re the only people who don’t care what I look like. They just care that I pay attention to them, and that I do a really good Very Hungry Caterpillar voice.”

  “You do do a really good Very Hungry Caterpillar voice,” I said. I was embarrassed to think about my initial judgments of this girl. From what I could tell, she was a kind, honest, straightforward person who didn’t give a damn what other people thought of her. She was everything I wished I could be, except for the nose and the eyebrow ring.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  “I saw the way those ladies were looking at you. What’s going on there? Did you bang one of their husbands?” she asked.

  “Hardly,” I answered.

  “What’s their problem with you?”

  “I’m not really sure. I mean, I know why they don’t like me, I just can’t believe it because it’s so ridiculous.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Nothing. I married a guy from here. They’re his ex-girlfriend’s friends. The guy cheated on me with the ex-girlfriend, and now they’re together. For some reason I guess they feel that that means they have to be nasty to me to make their allegiance clear.”

  “That’s crazy fucked up,” Lissy said, giving me another reason to like her tremendously.

  “Right?” I said.

  “You should come back to the library on Wednesday mornings. I do readings then, too. Those girls never come on Wednesdays, so you won’t have to worry about them. Maybe we can get a drink after or something.”

  “At eleven in the morning? I mean, I guess I could,” I said. “Why not?”

  “I meant a coffee drink. Not a cocktail drink. You need to get out more.”

  “You have no idea,” I admitted.

  “Here,” she said. She reached over and pulled a piece of paper off a small notepad sitting on the counter, and scribbled her phone number on the back of it. “Call me if you want to meet up sometime. I know what it’s like to be an outsider around here.”

  “I will, thanks,” I said. I had no idea why this girl had chosen to be so nice to me, and I didn’t care. Connecting with someone made me feel normal and happy and that was a phenomenal way to feel.

  “This store is really cute.”

  “Thanks. I need a new name. The Stationer doesn’t really do it justice, but I’m having a hard time coming up with anything better. What do you think? Do you like it?”

  “You want my opinion?” I asked, surprised that she’d be interested in my thoughts when she didn’t know me at all.

  “Yeah. Why not? You can be honest.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind my saying, I don’t think it’s the right name for this place either. It doesn’t make the store sound special at all, or even that you care that much about it. That’s probably not the vibe you want to put out there.”

  “I know. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to come up with something, but I haven’t been able to think of anything. Do you have a better idea?”

  “No,” I said, sadly. “I’ll think about it, though,” I said. I wanted to be cautious with my suggestions, because I sensed this store was extremely important to Lissy. The last thing I wanted was for her to feel like I stepped into her world and immediately started telling her what to do with her life like I was some kind of expert. My life was in complete disarray. I hadn’t worked since I’d left Chicago almost a year ago. Who was I to tell anyone about anything?

  “Okay, good. I need someone else’s brain on it. The name is important, you know? I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but I’m glad we met. I’m sorry those women are being bitchy to you. And I’m sorry your husband banged someone else. That sucks.”

  “Indeed it does,” I sighed.

  “Maybe you’ll be able to help me come up with the right name for this place. Two heads are better than one, you know?”

  “I’ll certainly try,” I said. “I should get going. I need to get home before this rain floods the street and Bo and I need to swim there.”

  “Yeah, it’s brutal out there. Drive safe.”

  “Thank you so much again for returning this. It was really nice to meet you.”

  “You too. I meant what I said. Call me sometime. I’m around. It’s not like the soccer moms are inviting me over for lunch every day, you know? Life is a lot different for me here than it was when I lived in Manhattan.”

  “I imagine the Goth world is a lot busier in the city.”

  “You don’t even want to know,” she said with a laugh.

  “You’re probably right,” I agreed. “I will. Have a good day.”

  I was just about to push the door open and back the stroller out onto the sidewalk when I had a thought. “Lissy, I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but do you have any plans later this afternoon?” I asked. I knew that I may have sounded desperate, and too forward, and that if I was trying to date Lissy she would run the other way because I’d look like a cling-on, but I didn’t care if I sounded desperate, and I wasn’t trying to date her, so really it didn’t matter.

  “No. I’ll be here, but I’ll probably close up early. Nobody is out shopping in this weather.”

  “Would you like to come over for coffee or a real drink this afternoon? My friend Antonia is staying with me, but it’s just the two of us, and Bo, of course. There’s nothing worse than being trapped inside in the rain by yourself, right? I hope that doesn’t sound weird since we just met, but if you’d like to join you’re more than welcome.”

  “Sure. Why not?” she replied.

  “Great. I’ll be there, so come by whenever.” I picked up a pen from her counter and scribbled my address on a piece of paper. “I’m only like five minutes from here.”

  “Cool. I’ll close up here around four. See you after that.”

  “Great! See you then,” I said. I waved as I pushed the stroller outside and hurried toward my car in the rain for
the second time today, laughing at the fact that if not for really bad weather and a shortage of underwear to toss, I may never have met Lissy. I was happy I did. I wished I’d met her sooner.

  “I’M GLAD YOU came,” I said when I answered the door at 4:30. I invited Lissy inside. “This is my friend Antonia. She’s staying with me for a little bit. Antonia, this is Lissy.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Antonia said. “Can I get you anything?” I loved that Antonia was acting like the hostess so I didn’t have to. It had been a long day, and I didn’t know how to be a hostess anymore, because Lissy was the first new friend to step in my house since I’d moved here.

  “I’m good, thanks,” Lissy answered, holding up a bottle of water.

  “Claire was just telling me about how you returned her datebook. That was nice of you. You work at the library and at a store in town?” Antonia asked. We pulled up chairs at the kitchen table, and Lissy took a long drink of her water. I glanced at Antonia to see if she was surprised at Lissy’s Goth attire, but if she was, she didn’t show it.

  “Yes,” Lissy said. “I do both. I’m single so I like to keep busy. What do you guys do?”

  “I work for a travel company specializing in Italian food and wine tours,” Antonia said.

  “That doesn’t suck,” Lissy replied, immediately envious of Antonia, which was what always happened when someone met Antonia for the first time.

  “Nope! You won’t hear me complaining. If you ever want to go to Italy, let me know!”

  “What about you, Claire?”

  “I guess I’m the only one here without a job,” I said—well, sighed.

  “So what?” Antonia asked.

  “You don’t get it, because you have your job—one you actually like—so you don’t know what it’s like to wander through your days in yoga pants with no intellectual stimulation. You don’t know what it’s like out here for moms in the cruel, scary jungle of suburbia. You still believe that because we’re all women in this big crazy world that we’re all supportive of each other, but I’m going to let you in on a little secret. The women who work are thinking about how lucky they are that they get to go do something useful with their days and how they’d just go crazy if they were home all the time, and the women who are home are thinking about how they’re just so fortunate to not have to spend one minute away from their kids, and everyone is lying! We are all just jealous of one another on some level. The working moms wish they could be home more and the home moms wish they could go to work sometimes but no one wants to admit that because everyone is too busy propagating the fantasy that they love their perfect little lives. So you know what that means?”

  “Everyone drinks too much wine?” Lissy asked.

  “No one is actually happy,” I replied.

  “That’s an aggressive statement,” Antonia informed me.

  “I stand by it. I mean, I traded my career for my marriage. Great. Fantastic. Yay for me. Except now I have neither, and all I’ve been hearing is how I need to rebuild my life. Which begs the question: Which one am I supposed to rebuild first? Do I try and start over in an unforgiving industry that requires hours of commitment and let someone else tuck Bo in every night? Or do I try and find another husband so that my non-career is less like a scarlet letter and more like a selfless act? Do I chase money, or a man? Are those the only options I have? Is that what it really boils down to for all of us in the end?”

  “That is seriously depressing,” Lissy said. “Shit.”

  “Exactly. No wonder the number of female alcoholics is on the rise. Who can possibly stand to think about that? The concept of being able to have it all is a myth. You have to make a choice, but we’re all trying to convince ourselves that we don’t.”

  “I don’t know why you’re putting so much pressure on yourself to go back to work, and for the record, you were talking about that before you even knew about Owen and Dee Dee,” Antonia said, because she had annoying recall. “Your career doesn’t define your worth, but for some reason you seem to think that it will somehow make you feel better about yourself. If you want to work then go for it, but if you don’t, that’s okay, too. There’s no one way to be a woman these days, so stop thinking that you need a job to be complete.”

  “I feel like people look down on me because I’m home with no job and no husband,” I said. I hated that I said it, but I meant it. “Is that crazy to admit?”

  “No. I get that,” Antonia admitted. “I feel like people judge me all the time because I’m single. I think people are saying, ‘Oh, if only she didn’t work so much,’ or ‘She’s too busy with her career to focus on finding a man.’”

  “They do say that,” I agreed. “But that also has to do with the fact that you’re gorgeous. No one understands why you aren’t married. No one ever used to say that about me. I’m not really sure if I should be insulted by that. I’ll have to think about it.”

  “I know. And that’s bullshit, too. I’m single because I haven’t met the right guy. Period. And when I do, I don’t know what will happen to my career. If I have kids and decide to cut back a little, so what? And if I have kids and decide to work the same amount, so what? And if I decide to never have kids and work seven days a week, that’s okay, too. Who are you answering to?”

  “No one. I don’t know anyone,” I admitted with a shrug.

  “Exactly. And with that comes freedom,” Antonia added.

  “Ahhh, freedom. So far it’s overrated,” I said. “I’m a smart, educated, competent woman with nothing to show for my life. How am I supposed to feel about that? I need something in my life to work. I’m firing on zero cylinders right now.”

  “You should go on a dating site,” Lissy suggested. “If you don’t like being alone, then you totally should do that.”

  “No, I shouldn’t,” I said, but Lissy’s suggestion had made my mind swirl into wonderful places. “But Owen should.”

  “I thought he had Dee Dee,” Lissy said as she watched me jump up from the table and grab my laptop from off the counter.

  “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” Antonia asked.

  “If you mean am I going to sign up Owen on Craigslist and put out his phone number so that lots of random girls call him day and night, then yes, I’m doing exactly what you think I’m doing.”

  “Fun,” Lissy said. “Can I help?”

  “This is genius! Why didn’t I think of this before? Between the internet and social media, I can completely torture him without ever needing to be in the same room! This is amazing!” I pulled up Craigslist and posted an ad that basically said Owen was looking for a nice casual relationship with no strings attached with someone who liked champagne and nice restaurants. I posted his phone number, laughed maniacally, and closed my computer. It took all of five minutes. The best five minutes I’d spent in forever.

  “That’s called bullying,” Antonia said, because she was rational and no fun whatsoever.

  “Only if you’re a teenager doing it because you’re bored. If you’re a grown-up doing it to your ex because he cheated on you, it’s called revenge, and it’s a huge, ugly bitch of a thing. Should I put him on Grindr, too?” I asked, because it seemed silly to stop at Craigslist when there were millions of sites to subscribe him to.

  “No!” Antonia insisted. “Quit while you’re behind, Claire.”

  “He’s going to get hundreds of phone calls,” Lissy said. She leaned back in her chair and laced her hands behind her head. “You’re kind of insane. I like that about you.”

  “Thank you. All is fair in love and whatever comes after love, don’t you think?”

  “Remind me never to piss you off,” Lissy said.

  “Noted,” I said, feeling almost giddy. Now it was time for Owen to see what it felt like to get screwed without even knowing it. “Anyway, to answer your question, Lissy, I was a social media consultant. Since I’ve been here, though, I stay home with Bo. It’s okay, I guess. I miss working. I miss having intelligent conv
ersations with people and feeling like I contribute something to the world. Why did I have to give everything up just to become a wife and a mother? Why did I decide that that was enough for me? I had a career. Then I had a son, and swapped one for the other. Why are they mutually exclusive?”

  “They’re not. You can have both. Anyone can. But just because your marriage failed doesn’t mean you made the wrong choice. You’re doing something really important. There’s nothing wrong with that,” Lissy replied.

  “No. There’s not. I know that. But it all sounds great until things go upside down and now I feel like I lost the real Claire. I used to wear shoes with heels. And shirts with buttons. And a watch. I don’t even know where my watch is. It might be back in Chicago for all I know. I wake up when Bo wakes up and I go to sleep when he goes to sleep and I don’t need to even know the time anymore and that’s kind of sad. I should have something in my life that’s just for me. I should have more than just a baby. I can handle more than just a baby.”

  “Then start looking at your options,” Antonia suggested.

  “I don’t think I have any! That’s the point! How can I possibly begin to coach other people on how to stay relevant in modern society when I’m totally irrelevant? I have no idea what’s going on in the world anymore. Things in this space move fast. Once you take a step out of it it’s over.”

  “Then find something else,” Antonia suggested, because that was such an oh-so-easy thing to accomplish.

  “I’m too old to start over,” I admitted, though I hated to say it. “No one is going to hire me. I’ve been out of the game too long now.”

  “You’re not old. You’re just not young,” Lissy said, trying to be helpful and missing the mark by a mile and a half.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “I could use some help. I didn’t realize you were looking for a job,” Lissy said.

  “What do you mean you can hire me? What do you want me to do? Turn the book pages at story hour? I really think that’s a one-person job.”